Slowly, the dapples of light beneath the trees become half-circles. The sun dims.

The stars begin to appear – but there’s a black bar with one end where the sun used to be. Massive shadow squares, sliding across the sky, giving you the semblance of night.

Perhaps you can see the faint glints of the sun-side of one or two of the shadow squares giving night-time to places widarsins and deosil of where you are. Perhaps not. Model the situation in a 3D program if you want perfect accuracy; I’m going to go with the option that lets me wax poetic about the way the Sun’s rectangular companions take a little bit of it through the death of the night, and give it back every morning.

One might even craft the shadow squares with different shapes. Every night is a differently-shaped eclipse. Perhaps even a second ring that rotates a little slower, slowly precessing against the world-ring on a year-long scale, rather than days. Dim the light a little, create some seasonal variance. If you want to. Watch the wolves drift inexorably across the sky to eat the sun and shit it out again.